~ Author & Scrivnomancer

Tag Archives: medieval times

Sleep is the wife that I neglect for things like work and other pursuits. She isn’t pleased. She says we never spend any quality time together anymore. Even when I do manage to get her in my embrace, it’s always fitful, never very deep, and rarely lasts long. She always stalks off, leaving me alone, red eyed and clutching a pillow. She’s threatening to divorce me for good . . .

Let’s see…it’s been awhile—what’s gone on in the last month:Flattery Will Get You Nowhere

On Wednesday, I had to pull yet another 33 hour 3rd-shift/day-job/3rd-shift day. During the day I subbed for a friend, teaching an after-school magic class. I was told the kids were “wild”…but the children turned out great. They were wild because they were very young (the youngest I’ve taught), but they were just very enthusiastic. Many were actually trying to be helpful. I even found two of the little girls waiting outside the room when I left—they were worried I might get lost. It was the most fun and easy $100 for an hour of work.

That night, I sat on the sofa, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, watching Boston Legal with my parents to pass the very short hour before I had to go to 7-11 for the night shift. I’d been awake for well over 20 hours. I wasn’t happy.

The weekend before Halloween I got to visit my goddaughter, Reese :) Her grandfather took me and her daddy out shooting his handguns. I don’t have much experience with guns. But, as it turns out, I’m a pretty good shot and did the best that day. Afterwards I got to play in the bubbles with Reese and her mother gave me the coolest Halloween card ever.

I had to work Halloween night😦

The weekend after Halloween, I did manage to go to a Halloween party at Jerry and Robb’s apartment. I went as the great pumpkin. My mask never came in the mail…so I had to get creative with make-up. I didn’t manage to get any pictures…other than these webcam shots (the makeup was a bit smeared by then and I didn’t have the costume on):

Of Music and Memories

A friend and neighbor, John, died just over a week ago, suddenly and unexpectedly of some sort of heart problem. He was only 53. I got the call about it just before going to bed, after the 3rd shift. My family and I rushed over to his house for any emotional support we could offer his wife, Deb. The police had to shoo us out right away, though, as the coroner hadn’t even been there by the time we arrived.

His wake was a few days later. My little sister, Danielle had never seen a dead person before and I think it weirded her out a bit. A lot of people came out. John touched a lot of lives. He’d told me stories about his wild days working at a ranch and entertaining. He always wanted to sit down with me and put those stories to pen and paper. Meeting him later in life, these exploits were just stories for me…until I saw some of those character manifested at his wake. For music, they just plugged in John’s iPod. I think this was a good move. It was his music. I was impressed how an iPod could become a sacred reliquary of someone’s life. Another neighbor made a touching speech about John, about how he and Deb had a big family with lots of other siblings (the other neighbors on the block) and a lot of kids (us neighbor kids growing up on the block). Deb pulled me aside at one point to tell me how proud he always was of me.

There’s more to type . . . but not in the scope of this entry. Maybe later—all the normal clichés this type of thing inspires. But I hate to be cliché…I might have to filter the sentiments through odd, metaphorical characters—maybe in this case it would be dialogue between a living vampire pumpkin and manic-voiced anthropomorphic personification of nostalgia (in this case, personified by a talking pogo stick with a chicken leg and rabbit head). Maybe.

I’ll really miss John come the next Buffett concert.

I have a tremendous compulsion to keep my iPod updated.

7-11 No More

On a particularly impulsive Wednesday, I quit 7-11. I’m going to write my novel full time, for the next couple months, get that done and work on fixing my shattered sleep cycle. I’ll worry about regular work after that.

Book of Dead Things: A Nomination

On November 25th, I and some of my fellow anthology authors did a live reading and book signing at Café Aeon, for our book, Book of Dead Things. It was fun. We sold a few books. I love doing live readings and Café Aeon is a great place to do them (the other authors agreed). And now a few copies of Book of Dead Things can be found on the cafe’s shelves.

Also, over at Dark Scribe Magazine, Book of DeadThings was nominated for Best Dark Genre Fiction Collection. If you click the link and register, you can vote for us (come on! do it!!!).

Coming Soon

Danielle got the job as princess at Medieval Times! She’ll start up sometime in January. You should go there, eat without utensils, and cheer my sis on.Conclusions…

Me and Sleep are getting along a little better. She’s even shared the same bed with me a little. I told her we might get therapy. Maybe there’s hope for us after all.

I wish the White Hen building would sprout giant chicken legs and run away like a Russian fairy tale.

I dislike most every inch of it. I hate working 50+ hours a week, just to barely make my minimum loan payments. I hate being at the mercy of every creep and looser that comes out of Island Lake’s cracks in the wee hours (and there are a lot of cracks…oh there are some nice late night misfits, and we can smell our own, but there are plenty of carbon based life forms I could do without on this gig). Stories of what happened to other night shift people who got robbed at many of the surrounding White Hen’s doesn’t help (I suppose I’m lucky the cops visit mine so regularly). But even worse than that…I’ve been missing out on a lot lately—had to skip out early on a good friend’s wedding reception—missed the double feature of Psycho and The Birds at the outdoor theater—and tonight is the last meeting of Twilight Tales at The Red Lion Pub…and I’m missing it.

The Red Lion, a building with a lot of ghosts, a lot of memories, built in 1880, and chalked full of creaky, precarious charm, is receiving renovations…but not just renovations…they’re tearing up the whole building and rebuilding it from the ground up. I know the Red Lion will be back…I know I’ll still get to read at Twilight Tales (they’re temporarily moving to another location)…but I’ll miss the old Red Lion. I spend enough time in safe, modern buildings…I want to drink rum and beer and read ghost stories in a place that speaks and creaks, under the beer garden tree, over a congress of very large, and by now very literary, rats.

Bah.Medieval TimesAs far as I can tell, the Medieval Times gig did not pan out. My little sister got a call back over a week ago and will be doing further auditions…but I haven’t heard anything.

Alas…and all that.

However, breath expended to cheer me up would be better spent wishing my little sis luck.Auxiliary Escape PodsI’m sure there must be another way to escape this White Hen. The problem is it sucks up so much of my time…it’s hard to take the time to make the escape—this convenience store is like a nasty, self-fulfilling prophecy…one that sells tasty sandwiches and burnt coffee.

I’m applying, near every day, for various teaching, tutoring, and writing type positions. Haven’t heard anything back yet.

Hyena In My ThroatWhite Hen did afford me a moment of amusement. I was working, per usual, when a couple of college-age guys came in the convenience store. They made their purchase, looked at me, did a double take, and one of them said:

“Dude. Dude! OK. I’ve got two questions. First, have you ever seen the movie, Clerks? And—”

“Yes,” I interrupted, “And I know what the second question is, and yes.”

“Dude!”

I then gave them an abbreviated story of the Halloweens and events that Nick and I went as Jay and Silent Bob—how we won several hundred dollars at a costume contest and how dressing like the duo even got us on stage with Jenna Jameson once upon a time. They were impressed, thanked me, and took their purchases and were about to leave…when the guy who spoke up originally suddenly stiffened. I could almost hear the gears turning and saw the light bulb over the head flicker precariously, the wattage far exceeding the fortitude of the filament. He was in the throes of an epiphany. He turned around, came back and delivered it unto me…

“Dude, do you not find it ironic that someone who looks like Silent Bob now works as a . . . . clerk?”

Sometimes, despite ourselves, we laugh. Hard.Autumn RitualsI’ve developed a ritual of sorts, over the last two weeks.

By the end of a graveyard shift at the Hen, my back and feet hurt. A lot. I’m more of a shower person…but I’ve started soaking in the tub after most shifts. But with so little spare time…I hate to waste it…I wanted to validate it somehow. Absorbing stories is enough validation for my time so I started bringing the I-Pod with me. I soak in lava hot water, turn the lights out, and sit in sense deprivation, in a warm womb of audio fiction via the head-phones.

In the dark of Sunday morning, not feeling like drawing a bath, I felt like something different, to celebrate the coming of my one day off and October (or rather, October’s Eve). I grabbed my coat and fedora to keep warm, sat in the back yard, and smoked rum-dipped cigarillos, and listened to some of Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked this Way Comes (a quintessential October story) and stared into the forest until it stared back…or the sun rose…

I don’t remember which happened first.

Ghost Stories at the BogI’ll make another post on this, with more details, tomorrow—but on Saturday, October 13th, there will be professional storytellers telling ghost tales at Volo Bog. It’s a very fun event. I’ll likely be going and I’ll likely make reservations come Thursday. If you want to come, let me know, and I’ll reserve a spot.

Real World: Well, you get $100,000+ of debt and menial work completely unrelated to your degree.

Josh: But…but the degree is the reason I owe so much.

Real World: Them’s the breaks kid.

Josh: Damn…

Real World: OK. ‘Nuff talk. Back in line.

Josh: It’s so long…where does this one end?

Real World: Late retirement.

Josh: Fuck.

Argh!

There are so many stresses and traumas that can completely floor other people (that I’ve observed)…but have little affect on me. Certain things that cause rage or despair or depression or that eats away at self-esteem and sanity . . . and most of these things roll off me like rain drops. I am impermeable.

But you take everyday, ordinary banality…and I have no defense, I dry right up into a husk—keel over like the aliens exposed to the common cold at the end of War of the Worlds (and I don’t even get Orson Welles to narrate it . . . well . . . sometimes I do, if I close my eyes and imagine). All my Quixotic manias dry up and I’m left feeling hollow and useless. Not even a week into my White Hen job and I feel it. Broken down…I owe about $1,200 a month in minimum payments . . . and working full time I make…well…pretty much that—nothing left for gas or savings or anything else. So thoughts of living on my own or getting on with a real career seem pretty distant…maybe when I’m in my late 30’s I can get an apartment…maybe in my 40’s I could date again…

And, running under the gun of monthly payments…I’m not so sure I have the time to do the professional things I want to do, or take the creative-crazy steps to get out of this. When was the last time I really wrote something? Ugh…too long. And to top it all off, with a rancid cherry, I know that plenty of other people have to do the grind (my Dad included) and work hard so I can’t even get the satisfaction of really, really whining about this in a dramatic fashion without feeling selfish and silly. In fact, I’m only going to allow myself three paragraphs . . . which I’ve pretty much used up.

Ah well…Fall is here and that feels good and I feel that if I could only put on a silly rubber mask and play in a giant pile of leaves I might get back something of my old self.

I miss getting regular, in-depth time with my close friends. I see people…but on a scattered basis these days. I want to go running with Torrie every day and hang out and play Mario Cart. I want to have rehearsals with Rich Funk every weekday. I want…ok…I was going to make a whole list of all of you and some activity I like doing with all of you…but there are a lot of you and I hope you forgive me if I end here (in the interest of getting to bed…this 3rd shift monkey is tired). I want to go on an IGA run or a late night outing (minus Central IL cops freaking out and searching me for weapons…but at this point, I’d accept that as the price).

On to happier things. The MEDIEVAL TIMES AUDITION…a lot of people asked me about it. It went well…I think. Hard to tell. It was very quick…but didn’t feel dismissive. I was a little nervous (I haven’t had a real audition in a while). But we’ll see. I tried out for the King and for the MC positions (the MC being the witty, right-hand man of the king and host of the show). They said they’ll hold call backs next week and those they call will actually get microphone and run the lines in the main space. I have to say, it was cool to go for an audition/interview in a castle and even cooler to hear, “We’ll do the audition in Hall of Arms.” Also, my little sis tried out for a princess/maiden role as well. Good luck…to us🙂

Oh. The sun is up. I have to go hang upside-down in my closet now . . .

-I discovered a pile of text messages today. I can’t answer them. My phone can receive text messages, but it can’t send them. I’ll try to reply to those of you who texted me in other ways.

-I received a request, regarding MY LAST POST, to not have other people give me a kenning version of their names, but to myself give people some kenning namings. Sounds like fun. If you want a kenning, let me know. I can’t promise I’ll get to all of them….but then I just might.

-This week I started my new night shift job at White Hen. You learn a bit about your local community when working at the local convenience store. The people there are pretty cool and it’s not all that bad . . . but it does make me yearn for a job that actually uses some of the things I incurred so much debt “learning.” That being said…

-A few days ago I sent in my headshots and resume to Medieval Times as they were looking to fill a number of positions. I today got a phone message from a guy over there, saying he was looking at my headshots/resume at that moment and wants me to go in on Wednesday to audition for the MC/King. I’ll start practicing pulling swords from stones right now. Wish me luck.

-No new word on the novel yet. My editor, James Lowder, is still waiting for word from White Wolf on the latest iteration of the revised outline…once we get notes back on that, we’ll make final changes and then start working on the next draft…and then the exciting dates and deadlines will start falling.

-Speaking of falling…I’m excited at the change of autumn hitting. It makes fires in the iron pit in the back yard fun, the rum dipped cigarillos better, and coffee tastier…

-I need a sugar mamma. Maybe I should put out and ad—gives great back rubs, will travel.

-Barring that, I need a rich patron…whatever happened to the patron system! Aren’t there eccentric rich folk out there…just a hair more creative than all the vapid heirs and heiresses fluttering about, who’d like to one-up their fellows by getting something a little more interesting than a ANOTHER house or car . . . a court poet…now THAT is power. I’ll even wear motley.